The steel and glass behemoth rests while it's employees toil eternally, day and night. It's tendrils reach across the miles, penetrate art, culture, and humanity and suck noisily on the sweet nectar within, leaving desiccated husks. It calls out like the siren and millions are struck dumb by it's voice, and seduced by it's lies. As it grows, so does it's thirst for souls and it's lust for power. It's maw thrusts itself upon the unwary world, revealing the vacuum within. The creature wot comes in the night and feeds on your tender cortex is ever hungry.